


Extreme or Irrational Fear

by mageofmind (renegadeartist)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: Book 12: Seeing I, Claustrophobia, Dr Nyarlathotep, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Doctor (Doctor Who), Panic Attacks, post Seeing I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14577516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadeartist/pseuds/mageofmind
Summary: Prompt: eight + claustrophobia post Seeing I





	Extreme or Irrational Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmickaiju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmickaiju/gifts).



The hallway branches off once, twice, three times. The Doctor chooses the left each time, hand clasped firmly around Sam’s. They can feel her anxiety quite acutely, so much so that it twists in their chest and clenches their hearts. They don’t want to admit how much they missed running for their life, but by Rassilon they did. Unfortunately, it doesn’t bode well that one of their first adventures out after… everything on Ha’olam turned so sour so quickly. They’re not too worried about themself, but they are very worried for Sam. But, of course, that isn’t new. 

They don’t want her to be executed for a simple misunderstanding of local customs. Come to think of it, they really don’t want to be executed either. For the same thing, no less. No dignity, much less originality, in that. 

They run into a hallway covered in doors, but no exit. A dead end.   


“Oh, dear,” they say. “We should… hide.” 

“No kidding,” Sam says, tugging them towards the second door on the right. She pulls it open and pushes the Doctor in before closing them in. 

There’s a nanosecond, less than a blink of an eye, before the Doctor realizes they’ve been shoved in a closet.

They immediately spin around, bumping their elbow against one wall in the process. “Sam,” they choke out. “We can’t stay here.”

She moves her head from where it had been resting against the door, undoubtedly listening for their pursuers. “Why not - oh.” She looks around the room, and the Doctor tries to keep themself from pushing past her and running out the door. They end up pressing both hands against either wall of the closet and pushing. It doesn’t help. “Doctor, calm down.” They don’t think they’re breathing. That’s not good. 

There’s the sound of footsteps, loud and uniform. Sam sucks in a breath and puts a hand over the Doctor’s mouth. They think they’re making a noise, and they try to stop. They have no idea if it works or not, because the walls are pressing against them, getting smaller, smaller, and they’re trapped here, they can’t get out they can’t even try they’ll just get stopped and shoved in a smaller box and they are so much more but that doesn’t matter because they’re confined to this box and they believe that they are so they can’t escape and -

“Doctor,” Sam hisses again. Then, softly, “It’s alright, you’re alright. It’s fine, you’re fine.” She continues on like that, but her skin against their face makes their whole being shudder. They try to gently pull her hand off of them, but it's more like a jerk, and they don’t know which hand they used to do it, if they even used a hand. 

Sam, wonderful, unflappable Sam, only blinks and shudders a little. They think they might be unfurling, just a little, but it's so hard to tell because they can only focus on small things, on the pounding in their head, the timelines twisting outside the door, keeping them inside, the clothes on their skin, and way their chest expands, the way the walls breathe with them, getting smaller every time. 

They start to curl up into themself, because if they stuff themself down as far as they’ll go, then the room won’t seem so small. They can feel the displacement Sam’s hands make as they wave around them, not touching them, thankfully.

Something knocks against the door. Sam must have locked it, because the doorknob rattles without opening. They’re not breathing again, they’re unspindling, they’re too big for this room, too big, they have to get out get out get-

Sam puts a hand on the chest of their three dimensional form and they grab onto the feeling and keep themself grounded. The frame of the door splinters, and light pours in as its wrestled open. 

Now, there’s a completely different kind of panic, layered and twisted over the fear of being trapped, of being stuck, watched, stagnant. They grab Sam, with too many limbs and too hard, and she lets out a surprised gasp, but they’re already leaning ana, kata, altarwards. They keep her close, but they know she’s not made for this, not meant to do this. They just need to keep both of them out of view long enough-

“Nothing in here,” says a gruff voice that grates on their senses. The door is slammed shut and they shove Sam back where she should be. 

She’s laying on the ground, now, and they think she’s unconscious, but they can’t tell for sure. They’re terribly unspindled, and they hover over her, all of their eyes focusing on her and trying to keep them hidden, keep the timelines of the guards just in the hallway turned away. 

A spike of panic - the walls are pressing in on them, and they can press back, but if they do Sam will be hurt and - and they nearly snap the timelines in two. They shove desperately, and the guards start to stomp away, having given up their chase for now. 

They stay there, frozen, for a while longer. The timelines fade into ghosts, and they shove the door open and collapse out of it, trying to pull their body back together. They take huge gasps of air and it helps ground them. Their fingers dig into the plush carpet that lines the hallway and they want to curl up for a completely different reason. 

There’s a groan from the closet, and the Doctor leaps up and spins around. “Sam?” they ask quietly. They don’t move an inch towards the closet. 

She pulls herself up off the ground, using the doorway as support. “What happened?” she asks, still groggy. “Did we win?” A laugh pushes its way out of them, and they lurch forward and wrap Sam in a hug, lifting her up and spinning her around. She lets out a startled laugh in return. “Alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” 

They can’t think of any words to say, so they say, “Sam, Sam Sam,” over and over again. She gently extricates herself from their being. 

She blinks and squints at them. “Doctor… I think you’ve grown an eye.”   


They feel panic run up their spin and they cover their face. “No I haven’t!” How many eyes are they supposed to have? They peek at Sam, just to make sure. 

“Yes you have!” she insists gleefully, poking at them. Two. Two eyes. On either side of one nose. Alright, they think they have it. Sam frowns, and they worry they’ve got it wrong again. “Oh, now you’re all boring and normal again.” 

The Doctor lets out an exasperated huff of breath and gives Sam a shaky smile. “Come on, let’s get back to the TARDIS before the guards catch sight of us again.”

“Alright,” she says, and grabs their hand. She starts marching through the hallways, and the Doctor has to gently nudge her in the right direction. “You’re going to show me that trick again, though.” 

Well, it’s better than her running away screaming. But, of course, Sam’s always been tougher than that. 


End file.
